


Fucking With Sandburg

by arrow (esteefee)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: April Showers Challenge, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-19
Updated: 2008-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets more than he bargained for. Is that a bad thing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fucking With Sandburg

**Author's Note:**

> I used to think that writing was like being dragged behind by a wild horse, and maybe I don't feel that way so much anymore, but that doesn't make it any less true. This story just proved it to me again.

Fucking with Sandburg wasn't anything Jim really did on purpose—well, yeah, part of it was on purpose, the part where he didn't stop himself because it was too goddamned much fun. But each time he started—that wasn't on purpose.

They'd be sitting at the kitchen table and Sandburg would begin telling him about the sustainability of bamboo as a substitute for pine or whatever, as if Jim had _asked,_ as if he'd been pondering that very question— _Gee, I wonder how I could be more ecology-friendly with regards to soft woods—_ and he couldn't help it, his mouth would open up and he'd say—

"I dunno, Sandburg, bamboo? Sounds kind of flimsy."

That would earn him about ten minutes of hand-waving and earnest blue eyes and offers of reams of stress tests and studies and what have you, and Jim would just sit back and watch the show while throwing in an occasional poke. And he wouldn't even feel guilty that up in his bedside drawer he had a catalog of bamboo flooring he'd been flipping through lately, thinking about redoing the floors of the loft and imagining the light catching in all that pretty, golden grain.

"But don't panda bears rely on bamboo? I mean they were Endangered last time I checked, Chief."

"Oh, Jim, no, bamboo is a sustainable—wait a minute." Blair wrinkled his nose in his usual approximation of a frown. "You're fucking with me."

Jim lifted his eyebrows.

"Aw, shit. Was I talking too much? I know I go on and—man, motor mouth, huh? You probably didn't even want to hear about this—"

And that was too much. It was okay to fuck with Sandburg, but not to the point where he felt bad or something.

"Naw, I was interested. So, no kidding—bamboo clothing?"

"Oh, yeah!" Sandburg spun up again. "It's the total shit. Chicks dig it, too. It's really touchable."

Jim grunted, and that seemed to be enough encouragement because Blair went on, but for some reason the shine was off, and Jim didn't try to wind him up anymore, just listened while eating his Wheaties with one eye on the back panel and the offer of three free golf balls with proof-of-purchase.

What kind of dink got his golf balls from a cereal box?

///

Two days later on stakeout Jim found himself doing it again. At least he never did it in public, so no demerits there, but again he started up before he even realized it.

"No kidding, the guy just throws a bed sheet over her and she's his? Does it have to be a special sheet? Like with lace or something?"

"No, not special at all, just a white sheet. Of course, he still has to work out the details with the father, or it's a no-go."

"And she just stands there with a sheet over her head while the boy goes running off to talk to her papa?"

Sandburg started to speak and then did a double take. "Hey, weren't you stationed in Afghanistan for a while?"

 _Busted._ "I can't really say, Chief." Jim turned back to face the front window.

"Huh."

Blair went quiet. Jim waited. It wouldn't be long, anyway. The professor could resist lecturing about as easily as Jim could resist the donut cart.

But the silence went on for a while. Too bad. Even in the dark of the car Jim could clearly see the flash of Blair's lips and the hand gestures. Big hands for a shorter guy. The moonlight flattened everything, so Blair's jeans looked almost gray and two dimensional except for right there at the crotch. Pretty solid package, there—

Jim's eyes snapped up again.

 _What the hell?_ He wasn't, was _not_ checking out Sandburg's package.

No way.

Well, shit.

///

The next day was Sunday, but still a workday, so Jim didn't sleep in too late because the day after he'd be off the late-shift cycle. And there was too much to do, anyway. The hardware store was calling.

He expected Sandburg to stay sacked out since they'd had such a late night, but his bleary-eyed roommate stumbled out of his room around nine o'clock and headed straight for the coffee machine.

He was wearing a robe over his T-shirt and boxers, and his beard shadow was dark and kind of scruffy. Jim suppressed a smile and held out a cup.

Blair reached for it gratefully. "Thanks, man."

That was the last thing he said until after two full cups and some eggs. Jim washed dishes and threw over his shoulder, "I'm going to Home Depot, you want to come?" anticipating the usual Sandburg diatribe about large chain stores. It was a little early in the day, but maybe Blair would work himself up into a good rant before Jim conceded and went to the local shop, which was his favorite, anyway—the old guy there, Pete, had worked the counter for twenty years or more and knew everything anyone ever needed to know about grommets.

When Blair didn't reply, Jim dried off his hands and turned around.

Sandburg stared hard at him with his head tilted to the side. Jim looked down at himself— _boxers, check. No unsightly stains_. "What?"

"Tell me something, Jim—is it that you think I'm stupid, or do you just want me to think _you_ are?"

Jim gobbled air for a second. "What? What are you—?"

"Because, seriously—if it's the latter, I _know_ you, remember? You were top cop at Major Crime even _before_ the senses came back online. So why the dumb act in front of me?"

"Now wait a second—"

"And if it's the former, I'm not sure why you even want me as your partner. Is it like scoring points or something? Isn't that a little juvenile?"

"Chief, I don't think you're stupid—"

"So, are you mad at me about something? Is that why you're trying to make me look like a complete idiot?"

Flustered, Jim blurted, "I like seeing you get worked up, that's all."

Sandburg's glare became sharper. "Because you're pissed about something I did?"

"No! No, I just like to watch you—you get all excited. It's entertaining, okay? I don't think you're stupid—Jesus, anything but."

"You like to watch me." And when he put it that way, it sounded a little weird, yeah. The gleam in Sandburg's eye turned less angry and more speculative. Jim didn't know which was worse.

"Yeah, it's _fun_ ," Jim stressed. "You...you know—" he waved his hands in demonstration. "It's interesting to watch," he finished lamely.

"I'm _fun._ I'm _interesting._ " Blair sounded skeptical, but also a little flattered.

"Well, yeah," Jim said, feeling relieved.

"And that's all there is to it?"

Jim's reply was a hair late, he could feel it, and so he sounded a little off when he finally said, "Sure, yeah." He bit his lip. "So, we're good, Chief?"

Sandburg gave a weird smile. "Yeah, we're good."

///

"How about this one, Jim?" Blair held out a small piece of rubber.

Jim suppressed a sigh. "That's a gasket, not a grommet, Sandburg. You still can't tell the difference?"

"Why don't you explain it to me again?"

Jim took it from Blair and gestured. "Gaskets are flat, see? They're for creating a tight seal between two pieces of metal." He held up a grommet in his other hand. " _This_ is a grommet. You use 'em to reinforce a hole. Except this one's the wrong damned size for the screws I'm setting. Also, it's not deep enough. I need about a quarter inch between the rims."

"Hah. Okay, got it."

Two minutes later Blair returned holding out a rubber washer. "Will this work?"

Jim had to pinch the bridge of his nose. It felt like his brain was trying to squeeze out through his sinuses. "That's a washer, Chief. Look, I appreciate you trying to help—"

Sandburg was grinning. _Grinning_ , the jerk. "You're yanking my chain," Jim said flatly.

"Yup. How'm I doing?"

"Just peachy." Jim ignored his sudden urge to slam Sandburg against the supply shelf.

Something flickered in Blair's eyes, and his tongue came out to wet the corner of his mouth. "Here." He held out his other hand.

The perfect grommet sat innocently on Blair's palm.

Jim growled and took it. "Thanks," he said through his teeth.

"Don't mention it."

Sandburg was still grinning.

///

"Would you just—damn it!—hold _still_ , Chief?"

Blair's hair was in Jim's face—hell, it was up his nose, and one of his sturdy shoulders was under Jim's elbow, nudging it so the screwdriver slipped for what felt like the twentieth time.

"I'm trying, Jim."

"Just hold it steady for two seconds, would you?" Jim said under his breath. The brand-new shelving wasn't going in as easily as he had hoped, mostly because Jim needed more than two hands to get it done, and Sandburg couldn't seem to handle the simple task of holding things in place.

Blair coughed suddenly, and the bracket slipped sideways, the screw flying out from beneath Jim's screwdriver to rattle down onto the floor behind his right foot.

" _Damn_ it!"

"Sorry, Jim. Here, just let me—" Blair ducked under his arm and leaned against Jim's leg to reach for the screw. His head butted gently against Jim's groin, and Jim bit back a curse.

Blair jiggled against him. Jim stared up at the loft ceiling. Dust. Tons of dust on the beams. He'd have to see to that.

"Got it!" Sandburg gripped Jim's thigh to pull himself upright. Jim gritted his teeth. Then Blair's warm hand went to Jim's waist.

Jim drew in a breath to bitch at him, and Blair said, "Sorry, just getting my balance. Here—" Nudging the bracket back into place, Sandburg tucked the screw in and held it.

Jim set the screwdriver, but his hands felt weird—a little shaky. Well, he'd been holding the shelf up for a while now. His arms were tired. He was panting, too. He hurriedly started turning in the screw, but after two twists the screwdriver slipped right out of his sweaty hand and bounced once against Blair's arm before clattering to the floor.

"Goddammit. Fuck!"

"Hey, easy there, big guy." Blair sounded amused.

"Fuck you, Sandburg." Jim lifted the shelf away and leaned it roughly against the wall before he could decide to brain Blair with it. Blair was still trapped in front of him and looking up with wide eyes and— _Jesus_ —a shit-eating grin. "I don't believe this," Jim said in a growl.

"Aww, poor baby."

"Poor—!" Jim nudged Blair back against the brick with his forearm. "What is this, payback? You trying to get me worked up?"

"Sure, that's fun. But that's not the point." Blair stared down at Jim's arm across his chest, and then looked back up, his eyes gleaming.

 _No way. Nuh-uh._ Not for a second did Jim believe what he was seeing there.

"You dropped your screwdriver." Sandburg was almost laughing now, or maybe it was something else that was making his chest lift under Jim's forearm.

Jim felt his face get stiff and stupid. He found himself pushing a little harder on Blair's chest, until he was well and truly pinned against the wall and under Jim's control.

Blair let out a curious little sound. A hungry sound. Jim shifted his hands until they gripped Blair's shoulders, and Blair's eyes went half-lidded.

"Yeah, that's it. Come on," Blair said very softly.

"No way," Jim said out loud. His voice sounded hoarse for some reason.

"Really?" Blair reached—and his hand suddenly cupped Jim's cock, which was hard. Really hard. When had he gotten hard?

Blair closed his hand.

"Oh," Jim said.

"You've been like this since I got on my knees," Blair said. "I'd almost assume there was a connection there."

"I—"

"You want me on my knees, Jim?"

Oh, shit. That was a good image _._ "Gunh."

Blair slipped down from under his arm, went down to his knees, and just like that Jim's whole body slid into _need, want, have to_ —

"I don't—" He wanted to say he didn't want Blair to do this, he didn't know Blair would want to do this sort of thing. But Blair's nimble fingers were already undoing the front of Jim's khakis, and at the first gentle clasp and tug on his cock, Jim's head thunked forward against the brick wall before him, and all he could say was, "Jesus, Chief."

Blair didn't look up. Jim couldn't tell what Sandburg was thinking, but his hand was sure on Jim's cock, pulling a deep moan from Jim's chest. Embarrassed, he tried to keep silent, but it was difficult with Blair holding him in his hand. Then Blair was leaning over and putting his warm, soft mouth over the head of Jim's cock.

The surge of pleasure made Jim dizzy, and he braced his palms on the wall, the brick painfully rough under his fingers. Everything was suddenly _more_ , and he could feel the rasp of Blair's tongue, hear the soft sounds of Blair's mouth and lips working him. He couldn't see, though, he needed to _see_ , and he found himself saying hoarsely, "Your hair. Pull back—"

Without pausing a beat Blair reached up with his free hand and twisted back his hair, and then he tilted his head, staring up at him. Blair sucked upward and his lips, those incredible, full lips pursed obscenely around the crown of Jim's cock, and the sight was too much. Jim's fingertips tingled as he clawed at the wall while he tried desperately not to grab Sandburg's head and fuck his mouth.

Blair smiled around him, and then jerked him quickly while his mouth lazed and sucked, tongue stroking him firmly just under the head, and Jim moaned, "Oh, my God. Please—"

Sandburg tightened his fist just then and tickled the slit of Jim's cockhead with the tip of his tongue, as if he knew—Blair knew how perfect that felt, _Christ_. With a rush Jim felt in his toes, in his spine, in his balls, the pleasure arrowed through his body and poured out of him, spurted out of him while he hung, gasping, his legs trembling.

Blair swallowed him, milked him with his fist and swallowed him down, and that, more than anything, more even than the pleasure rushing through his body, made Jim close his eyes and moan softly, "Blair. God. Blair," as he spasmed again.

Jim's legs refused to hold him up any longer, and he sagged down, his knees crackling, until he knelt face to face with his roommate, his fucking _partner_ , who was sitting there with a slightly sheepish look on his face.

"I didn't know you did stuff like that," Jim said when he could speak. He immediately regretted the blunt words, because Sandburg stiffened, his jaw jutting out.

"Stuff like what? Sucking cock?"

"No! Chief, I mean..." Jim tried to think. "I mean, you jumped right in—we haven't even...you didn't kiss me," he said, his voice low and his face suddenly hot.

Blair's face softened into a bashful smile. "Didn't think you'd go for that."

"I think yeah, Chief. I want to—" Jim would rather do it than talk about it, so he leaned forward and—

There—the taste of himself on Blair's warm lips, in his hot, hot mouth. Blair moaned softly and kissed him back as if he'd been thinking about it, too. Except Jim really hadn't been thinking about it, had he? He was pretty sure. Except this felt so good, so familiar, like he'd been doing it in his head all along.

Blair made a pained sound and shifted away.

"C'mon," Jim said, "your knees have to be killing you."

"Not just my knees, big guy." Blair reached down and adjusted himself in his pants, and Jim felt his own cock twitch again as if it had a little life in it.

Everything still felt strange and dreamy as Jim led the way upstairs, the shelves forgotten, the pieces lying on the floor behind them. Sandburg didn't come up to his room very often, and Jim found himself taking a nervous look around. Like Sandburg was a girl he was bringing home and he was afraid she'd see his dirty underwear. It was almost funny—except it wasn't, because it just made Jim realize how strange this all was. He'd kissed Sandburg. Sandburg had sucked him off.

Did he expect Jim to do that?

"Hey," Blair said behind him. "You're not moving."

"Yeah, I—" Jim took a deep breath and brushed his hand over his hair, over his forehead, which felt funny, all bumpy. After a second he realized it was the brick marks imprinted on his skin. Jim laughed a little.

"What?"

Jim turned around and gestured at his forehead with a little embarrassment.

Blair didn't laugh. Instead, he drew closer and tugged Jim's head down so he could put his lips on the skin there. The gesture was so fucking tender that Jim had to close his eyes and just breathe for a second.

"You okay?" Blair sounded hesitant again.

Jim answered by wrapping both arms around Sandburg's waist and pulling him in for another kiss.

It was easier after that. Once they were kissing again, once Jim felt Blair's hands on his back, running down to his butt, squeezing him with a hard, possessive touch. It gave Jim an excuse to do the same thing, and then he had his hands full of taut, rounded muscle. He'd looked at it, he'd wondered, and now Blair's ass was in his hands, and suddenly Jim couldn't wait to see it naked. He ended the kiss and stepped back to pull off his T-shirt, hoping Sandburg would take the cue.

Only Blair seemed a little dazed or something, because he just stood there staring at Jim.

"What?' Jim started on his khakis, which were still partially open from before. "Get with the program, Chief."

"I just—" Blair waved at him. "You're—"

Jim stopped dead. "You still okay with this?" His heart sank. "We don't have to—"

"No, I'm good, it's good," Sandburg said hastily and started stripping.

Jim looked away, thinking that might help because, yeah, this was still weird, the two of them getting naked to do things with each other. _To_ each other.

He finished first and bent over the bed to pull down the neatly made covers. He heard Blair make a breathy sound behind him, and Jim turned around.

Sandburg was staring, and this time he didn't look confused. He looked hungry.

Jim realized Blair had been staring at his naked ass, and heat washed up from his groin. He knew his face had to be bright red, but it didn't matter because Blair wasn't looking at his face. His eyes were directed much lower than that.

So, Jim took the opportunity to look at Sandburg, almost naked in front of him. His shoulders were wide, much wider and more solid than they generally looked under all those layers. His chest had a dusting of hair, and it made Jim curious what it would feel like against him—if it would scratch, or was it as soft as it looked? He reached out and drew his palm down from Blair's collarbone to just over his sternum, ignoring Blair's gasp.

 _Nice._ His fingertips registered the bump of Blair's nipple. Sometimes Blair wore a ring in there, and Jim wondered what that would be like.

"Jim—" Blair sounded like he was in agony. Jim jerked out of his sensual daze and registered the desperation in Blair's eyes.

"C'mon, then," Jim said, his voice rough and dry. Blair pushed his underwear off his hips and led the way to the bed.

The strangeness was back, because Sandburg wasn't just undressed, he was naked. Jim was, too—had never felt this naked. Blair knew almost every-damned-thing about him. And now he was going to know just that much more.

It put Jim into a different kind of zone, like a battle zone where he had to shut down his brain or he would freeze up. He couldn't do that to Blair. He'd started this, after all, by fucking with Sandburg to begin with. He should've known.

But nothing would have prepared him for how it felt to be skin on skin with the guy. How Blair's legs would wrap around him, heels tucked against the back of Jim's thighs. How hot it was to feel hardness rubbing against his, or feel the strength of Blair's hands on him. Solid grip on his shoulders. Hard muscles under Jim's lips.

There was a danger to it. "Don't—don't let me zone out, okay?" Jim found himself saying. It was getting to be too much.

"Not a chance. You aren't missing this," Blair said breathlessly.

Jesus, he smelled so damned good, and he moved so smoothly, as if he was missing bones. His hips shifted up hard, and Jim had to stop him, had to plant his hands on Blair's hips and hold him still before he lost it again. But Sandburg was having none of it. He heaved up, pushing Jim over, and in his surprise Jim didn't try to stop him. Then Blair was squirming on top of him, the soft, furry skin of his belly dragging against Jim's cock, and Jim moaned and helplessly came.

"Yeah, Jim. Yeah," Blair said, and he palmed Jim's cock while Jim shuddered some more.

"Christ." When Jim could think again he found Blair humping on top of him, and Jim thought enough was enough, Sandburg wasn't going to just take over everything and not let him do a damned thing in this...whatever. So he wrapped an arm around Blair's waist and turned him over, then latched his mouth on Blair's stiff little nipple.

Weird. Small and salty and rigid. Different from a woman's, but still, the attention there was making Sandburg make some beautiful, hoarse sounds above him. Jim used a little bit of teeth and Sandburg shivered.

It made Jim feel a bolder, and he started down Blair's torso, flicking his tongue against Blair's ribs, dipping into his belly button, and then Jim leaned up on one elbow and looked at Sandburg's cock.

Yeah, the package lived up to the advertising. But Jim had a pretty big mouth, bigger than a woman's. He figured he could take it.

"You don't have to, Jim," Blair said above him.

Jim frowned.

"I mean, if you're not—" Blair's voice cut off with a squeak when Jim gripped his cock and squeezed.

"Just shut up for once, Sandburg," Jim said, and then he leaned over and awkwardly put his mouth on Blair's cock.

Good. Tasted really good, and felt so soft and strong under his tongue. Jim tried to go deeper but his lips caught, so he pulled away and started licking, trying to get Blair's cock good and wet.

Blair was moaning, his stomach heaving under Jim's forearm. Jim licked his lips and dove back down, this time getting his mouth down to meet his fingers covering the bottom half of Blair's shaft. He squeezed and sucked, and then started moving—his head and hand moving up and down, Blair sliding in and sliding out of his mouth. Felt weird but good. He paused to nibble a little at the head, then took up the rhythm again. The sounds coming from above him grew seriously desperate.

A touch to his arm distracted him, and he pulled away, still pumping the thick shaft with one hand.

"What? I'm working here, Sandburg."

Blair made a choked sound and then his cock pulsed in Jim's hand, spurting come all over Jim's cheek and jaw. Jim kept milking him through it, though the come stung a little on his skin. He bent and gave Sandburg's cock a lick, right on the twitching head. Stung his tongue, too. He'd have to ask Sandburg about that later.

Right now, it looked like the professor wasn't in answering mode. Blair stared down at him with slitted eyes, his chest heaving. He was sweating, too, glistening with it, and so Jim decided to lick his way back up. He managed to rub off most of the come, leaving a trail of it on Blair's skin.

He'd better remind Sandburg to take a shower before it dried like that.

But first, he leaned up and kissed Sandburg on his lax lips. They twitched, and then suddenly Blair lunged up, hands grabbing Jim's head and his mouth opening like a furnace, tongue twisting out to meet Jim's. If Jim hadn't come so recently he'd be hard as a rock in seconds.

Actually, incredibly, he _was_ getting hard again. When had that happened? He was going to have to get a handle on these stealth hard-ons before he hurt himself.

"Jim, Jesus, Jim," Blair was chanting. He licked along Jim's jaw, and Jim realized he must be tasting himself there.

"Chief, how come it stings?"

"What?" Blair still looked a little dazed.

"Come, I mean. It burns a little."

"Jim."

Uh-oh. Blair sounded exasperated.

"I'm just wondering—"

"We just, like, fucked, you know? Here we are, having a nice afterglow, first time with you, best blow job I ever had—"

"Really?"

"—not that it was your superior technique or anything, so don't get cocky. It was just—Jesus, Jim. Let a guy have his moment."

"Yeah, I know, but it really burned."

"Aww, poor baby."

Jim smacked the hand away. "And I was curious, because it never used to, when I'd jerk off, I mean. Before."

"Before you came back online? Or before you ever had another guy's jizz on your face?"

Jim felt himself flush.

"Hah. Gotcha."

"Jesus, way to keep romance alive, Sandburg. _'Jizz'_. Christ."

"Hey, you fucked with me first."

He had, hadn't he? Jim smiled.

"Quit grinning like that. Remember, I've got some leverage now, man." Blair reached down and gripped Jim's hard-on.

And maybe Jim hadn't planned it this way, but fucking with Sandburg turned out to be a pretty good idea after all.

....................  
2008.01.19  


  


  
  
  
  
  


A grommet  


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A gasket  


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No image of  
Blair's basket  
  
  
---|---|---  
  
  


  
  


  


**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
